Star Wars: The Pursuit for Justice
by Anton13131
Summary: A Long time ago in a galaxy far far away... 3 Strangers Walk Into A Seedy Bar On Nar Shaddaa 2 Old Friends Who Now Are On Opposite Sides Of An Age Old Conflict A Forbidden Romance That Defies The Very Beliefs The Lovers Stand For All These Paths Will Cross In Such A Way That The Fate Of an Entire Galaxy Will Be Altered For The Better Or The Worse Is Yet To Be Seen...


Chapter 1: 3 Strangers Walk Into A Bar

Nar Shaddaa- 5 Years Into the Sith-Republic War- Present Time

As the noisy cantina buzzed around him Ligma Shren could only think one thought to himself. "What have I done?" "What have I done?" "What have I done?" Ligma Shren was, emphasis on was, a skilled programmer who worked for the local Exhange Boss Spine Ripper. He was 1.79 meters tall, had very short dark hair and had no otherwise unique features, except for the rather embarassing fact that he could never grow any facial hair on his chin due to an accident he had repairing a droid as a child.

During a routine repair on Spine Ripper's personal protocol droid he discovered a pocket of data he never noticed before, curiously, he opened it up and examined the data. It was a collection of private messages Spine Ripper had his droid send to his subordinates. Normally Shren wouldnt care about such things, but he saw something while he scrolled through the messages that caught his eye. The name of his father. His curiosity increasing, layered with confusion, Shren opened the message. The message was a hit, the hit was for his Father. The man that Ligma Shren now worked for was the man that ordered the murder of his father. At this realiztion Shren became enraged, tears began to well in his eyes.

Shren downloaded the data onto his datapad and continued his "work". Shren, caught up in his anger and fury programmed the droid to attempt to kill Spine Ripper the next time the droid saw him. Had Shren been clearly thinking at the time he wouldve realized what a bad idea that was but it was too late for that now. Ligma finished his repair and set the droid back to its normal routine, which as Ligma knew would involve shaving Spine Ripper in about an hour or so. Ligma decided it would be best to high tail it out of run down warehouse that Spine Ripper called his home.

Ligma Shren stopped by his apartment, his apartment was down a dirty alley just off the Docks where Spine Ripper's freighters came in to pick up and drop off man power and merchandise. Ligma Shren grabbed his personal blaster, a heavily modified hold out blaster that would get him detained if he took it to any civilized system. While Nar Shaddaa was technically civilized it didnt really meet Ligma's criteria for being a civilized place to live or work. He thought as civilzation as clean, neat, well lit and hospitable. Not the dirty, dingy, dark, dank, disgusting planet he called home. He hated living on Nar Shaddaa, ever since his Dad was murdered, thinking of this again brought anger and his current perdiciment to the front of his mind, his passive thoughts being dispersed and a sense of urgency again filling his actions. Ligma shoved the blaster in his pocket and grabbed whatever credits he could and stuffed them into an old raggedy bag his father had given him years ago. With money in bag, blaster and datapad in pocket he was ready to make his escape from this hell hole he called home.

He reached the doorway leading out of his apartment but seeing a spare hydrospanner on the ground outside his door he realized he forgot his most precious belonging. The multitool kit his father had given him for his 8th birthday. This kit contained all the tools of Ligma's trade and embodied his livelyhood and his passion. He grabbed the tools off the ground by his cot, slipped them in the bag on his back and ran out the door. Destination unknown, men who would obviously be out to kill him soon on his trail and an unkown adventure ahead of him. His datapad alerted him that one hour had passed since his sabotage just as he caught a taxi to the nearest cantina.

The war had left Nar Shaddaa largely unaffectted, with no real central government and different parties working for different sides, the Republic and Sith Empire opted to maintain a sense of neutrality in their dealings with the different groups on Nar Shaddaa. While this lack of political affiliation didnt directly effect Myren Lowje, he was most certainly biased in favor of the Republic. Having served for many years in the Republic Army he deeply respected and supported the Republic in all their ventures, idealoggically of course. Myren paid his dues to his government, as he thought about the price he paid the scars across his body ached dully, remembering how he acquired them. Myren sharply shrugged and stood up, running his gloved hand over his face, waking himself from his daydream state. His pocket began to ring, he was getting a call on his holocom. He took the rough silver disc out of his pocket and activated it. A very angry, very bloody, very ugly, very loud Spine Ripper appeared on the disc.

"BLAST IT, FINALLY YOU ANSWER! THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME IVE CALLED!"

"Oh damn, my bad. I was out of it." Myren casually replied, unphased by Ripper's unhappiness. Ripper was always quick to anger. "What the hell happened to your face anyways? Lose a fight with a rusty blade?" Myren quipped coyly, full well knowing that the question pissed Ripper off.

"Keep running your mouth and Ill slit your throat! Some piece of slag programmer made my droid try to slit my throat when it shaved me! Im sending the details to your datapad, I want him here as of yesterday, bring him alive and you will get 3 million, dead you only get 1 million."

"Damn you must really want him bad." Myren stated, inentionally pushing Ripper's buttons, he knew that Ripper wouldnt dare do anything to him because his services were far too valuable to him.

"Just... GET THE BLASTED JOB DONE!" Ripper yelled, frustrated by Myren's impertinence. Myren directed his attention to his datapad and read what he needed to. The target's name was Ligma Shren, the idiot took a cab that was run by an informant and was dropped off at the Smuggler's End Cantina. An hour and a half cab ride from where Myren was. Myren grabbed his trusty blaster Koraline, wrapped the sling around his shoulder and walked out of his seedy apartment.

"On the hunt..." Myren muttered to himself as he made his way to the taxi. But Myren had a strange sensation, deep in his gut, an inexplicable feeling that told him that what was going to happen in the next few hours was going to change his life forever. He had felt something like this before, but he couldnt place where he had experienced it. Myren shook the feeling off and continued his brisk walk to the taxi pad as he check Koraline to make sure she was in working order.

Jeerc Sparn clenched his fists as the shuttle began its descent into the atmosphere of Nar Shaddaa. He was eager, he was ready, he was itching for a fight. Less than 4 days ago he had backed out on a deal with the Exchange and upon his return to his home, he discovered his family slaughtered. His mom, his dad, his two little sisters, all dead. Along with a warning, written in their blood on the wall; "dont ever back out on a deal with the Exchange again". Jeerc eager for vengence grabbed his credits, bought a new blaster and bought a one way ticket to Nar Shaddaa, the home of the Exchange, ready to kill.

The time it had taken Jeerc to get to this point had been filled with self doubt, regret, worry, confusion and pure rage. Jeerc had always dreamed of leaving his home of Tatooine and here he was, about to land on a new planet, he only wish the circumstances had been better. Jeerc had heard, on the Holonet, that there was someone on the run from the Exchange, someone who knew the weaknesses and vulnerabilities on many members of the Exchange. Although Jeerc knew that it was very unlikely he could find this person, much less convince them to help him, or that their information would be valuable or that he could even kill the men he sought.

"This is were my self doubt comes from", Jeerc thought to himself. But then the images of his brutally murdered family flashed through his mind and a tear came to his eye pushing any doubt he had out of his mind replacing it with grim determination that only the death of those responsible could satisfy. Jeerc was wrenched from his thoughts by a sudden deceleration of the shuttle and a loud clang as the pilot brought the shuttle a little too fast against the landing pad. Jeerc stood up as the loading ramp dropped down, he patted his pocket to make sure the blaster was still there and then he quickly walked down the ramp. Having no idea where to begin, who to talk to, what to do, Jeerc half ran half walked over to the nearest cantina. Experience taught Jeerc that people in Cantinas usually knew what was going on in the world. As he walked up to the doorway, the name of the cantina stood out to him, Smuggler's End.

"How fitting." Jeerc muttered to himself, appreciating the irony of his situation. A smuggler, burned by a bad deal, searching for revenge, looking for information in a cantina called Smuggler's End, Jeerc's father would've never let him live this down Jeerc thought to himself. But unknown to Jeerc, there was no irony to be found here, only something that he would never imagine coming, circumstances that would send him on an adventure that would span the entire galaxy and put him in the middle of a war he had no desire to fight in, a bizzare adventure that would test him to the breaking point and have him play a critical role in the fate of the Galaxy.

Ligma Shren asked the bartender for a drink and put forward 10 credits to pay for it. As he did so he turned his head and looked toward the door, just as a man walked into the cantina. A man who stood at 1.85 meters tall, with unruly and dark hair, covered in sand, blood shot wild eyes, an air of desperation about him. Ligma sensed that he was going to be important. This stranger sauntered over to the bar and sat down on the stool next to Ligma. The stranger ordered a drink and reached into his pocket to pay for it, he pulled his hand out, with nothing in it and looked at the bartender depressed. Ligma guessed he must've spent the last of his money getting to this god forsaken moon. Ligma grabbed some money out of his rugged bag and pushed it forward.

"Let me get that for you. You look like you could use a good drink." Ligma said, turning to the stranger. Extending his hand he said "My name is Ligma Shren." The stranger with the dark hair turned to him smiling slightly and returned the extended hand.

"I'm Jeerc Sparn. Thanks for the drink." The dark haired stranger, who was no longer a stranger to Ligma said as he shook the extended hand.

"What brings you to Nar Shaddaa?" Ligma asked

"business... I suppose."

"business? You look like someone with a lot more than just business on their mind."

"Well... I guess you can say I'm looking for someone."

"Hah aren't we all? Anyone in particular?"

"I dont really know, Im looking for the head of the exchange I guess." A look of concern crossed Ligma's face, causing Jeerc some concern. "What's with the face?"

Ligma, now on the defensive, unsure of Jeerc's intentions, didnt know how to respond immediately. "The less I tell you the better, best not to involve you."

"Oh come on, you're the first person I've met here. You seem like a nice enough guy and you seem like you know something about the person Im looking for." Jeerc, using his charm and persuasive ability put the pressure on Ligma. "Im really desperate here man, I need some help. You seem like a good guy. Willing to help someone in need." Jeerc could see Ligma's face relax a little bit, but he did see Ligma's hand slip into his pocket, probably getting a blaster ready. Jeerc took a passive pose, turning on his stool toward Ligma, showing him that he had nothing to hide. A body language technique he learned to calm people down during a tense negotiaion. This man had information he needed, he wasnt going to let him lockup on him.

"I suppose that it wouldnt hurt, not like you are part of the Exchange." Ligma conceded, slowly sliding his hand out of his pocket, but remaining ready to defend himself if this sand covered man made a wrong move. Ligma had had plenty of experience with shady characters, he knew how to defend himself. "I used to work for the local Exchange boss Spine Ripper..."

Just as Ligma was about to give Jeerc the story when the door to the cantina was kicked open by an imposing figure in an old faded green durasteel armor suit, dented and scorched by blaster fire from past firefights. This man carried a heavily customised blaster rifle on his back, just as scorched and damaged as the armor he was wearing. This man was about 1.8 meters tall, just a little bit shorter than Ligma's sandy new friend. He was dark skinned, with a shaved head, scars on his face suggested he had seen some serious conflict at some point. He seemed to be young but his eyes gave him age beyond years, he had seen some shit. His walk suggested that he had some kind of military background. The Republic insignia emblazoned on his rifle signified his Republic service. Unlike the rest of the gun however the insignia was as bright and clean as it wouldve been the day it was issused like the owner of the rifle took great care maintaining this one part of the rifle. As soon as this ex Republic Soldier examined the room he locked eyes with Ligma, swung his rifle around his shoulder and began to march over towards him with a fearsome determination.

"Oh dammit all to hell..." Ligma said regretfully, quickly sliding his hand back into his pocket and readying his blaster. Jeerc turned his head in the direction that Ligma was looking and got wide eyed at the approaching stranger carrying such a fearsome weapon. Jeerc, determined to protect the source of information he so desperately needed also readied his blaster under the bar preparing for a firefight.

The stranger with the Republic blaster stopped a meter away from Ligma and leveled his gun at his chest. "You. Come with me now." The stranger commanded.

"Oh damn it all. It's him." The bartender said remorsefully.

"OH GOD ITS HIM!" A patron screamed

"It's Myren Lowje!" Another blurt out in amazement and terror

Ligma slid out of his seat and drew his blaster pointing it at the threat. As soon as Ligma made his move so did Jeerc, he mirrored Ligma's movement sliding behind the stranger with the rifle, putting the threat inbetween him and his new friend. Flanking their enemy both Ligma and Jeerc pointed their blasters at the rifle wielding man named Myren Lowje. Ligma Shren had heard of this man before, he was Spine Ripper's best Mercenary.

"Shit." Ligma muttered

Just as Myren was about to make his move against the two men who opposed him he heard screaming coming from outside the Cantina and someone came flying in through the window crashing into Myren knocking him over the bar.


End file.
